


"Meant to Be" Doesn't Always Mean Forever

by Oakwyrm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M, Sorta sad, Soulmate AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:13:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,403
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oakwyrm/pseuds/Oakwyrm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first words a soulmate will say to their other half have always been marked on the bodies of humans. Some have happy endings, some do not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	"Meant to Be" Doesn't Always Mean Forever

**Author's Note:**

> OK I have officially no idea what this is.

Dean had, for most of his life, not cared about the words, he hadn’t even read them, actually. What was the point, really? He would always be a Hunter and whatever soul was unlucky enough to land him as their soulmate he was not going to let them be dragged down with him. That was just the plain truth of it.

When he finally did check he was around twenty and he ended up gaping and blinking at the words scrolled over his back, well, the photo of the words. Seriously “I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition”? What the hell kinda first meeting was that? So Dean decided to forget, forget the weirdo, forget soulmates even existed. He had enough to worry about as it was.

Soon enough he found himself on the Highway to Hell with no return ticket. That was when he figured he'd be one of the people who screws up their fate. Not that that surprised him one bit.

His soulmate could have already said those words to him, somewhere, sometime long ago even, when he didn't know what his words were. Or he could have been destined to meet them later in his life, thirties, forties, hell, even in his sixties if he made it that far. He didn't dwell on it, he'd made his choice and he was going to stick to it. _  
_

Then Castiel entered his life and Dean was banging his forehead against the nearest wall because not only was he saddled with a complete ass for a soulmate but said soulmate also just  _happened_ to be and “Angel of the Lord”. Oh, and he was back from the dead. Great. Just great.Nothing could ever be simple could it? Oh no, not for Dean Winchester it couldn't. Great.

Time passed and, as it turned out, Castiel was far less of an ass than some of his siblings. Even adorable. Though you probably wouldn't hear Dean admit that any time soon.

* * *

Sam had seen Dean’s words many times, and to be honest he might have been just a little jealous. From what he could gather of his own his soulmate was stuck in a dead-end job as a janitor. (Seriously though “I’ve been mopping this floor every day for six years?” Really?)

When he met Jess, the Girl With no Words, and fell in love, he assumed his soulmate was going to end up being one of those platonic types. How could he have guessed exactly how bad things would turn out?

Two years later, when the janitor on that one case said those words to him he was a little stunned. Dean didn’t know his words (something he was forever grateful for) so Sam managed to escape the awkward sibling teasing.

Then things had to go just a little more downhill as his soulmate was the flippin’ Trickster. Gotta love that Winchester luck, right? It was around this time that Sam started to consider some higher power might have a serious problem with him.

He didn’t see the Trickster much, beyond the Hell of a Thousand Tuesdays until he re-entered Sam’s life as Gabriel. An archangel. If it wasn’t for the circumstances Sam might actually have laughed. One brother paired up with an angel older than life on earth? Possible, not likely, but possible… maybe. Both? That was pushing it.

Despite this, however, he didn’t fall into Gabriel’s arms. He wasn’t even sure Gabriel knew of their connection. Maybe he did? It didn’t really matter, Sam reasoned, he was one of those people who ended up with a douche for a soulmate and that was just that.

Didn’t change the fact that when Gabriel died it tore at his heart.

_That's just how soulmates work._ He told himself, ignoring the woman on the news who was relieved to find out her stalker-soulmates had died. The man who cried tears of pure joy and relief when his abusive wife failed to come home from work.  _That's just how soulmates work_.

* * *

What about the angels themselves? Some of them had no Words and those who did shared them with no one. The Words of Angels, unlike those of Mortal Men, were not visible to the naked eye, they were burned into the very core of the Angel in question, resonating through their entire being. Loud and glaring to the Angel, invisible to the onlooker.

Castiel’s were simple, a question received on a daily basis. “Who are you?”. Not an uncommon question for and angel to receive. He tucked his words away, focused on his task, focused on Heaven. His soulmate was obviously human. No angel would need to ask who he was, if they had not known him before they met, he would introduce himself before they asked. That was just the way of things.

So he kept his words secret. After all, an angel with a human soulmate? That could only end in tragedy. Besides, how was he to know who of the endless mortals was his soulmate to begin with. How was he even to  _begin_ to guess?

So he focused on his work and rose in the ranks until he was given a task so enormous he hardly dared believe it. He, the angel with the Black Wings, was tasked with rescuing the Righteous Man from Hell.

The experience was far from pleasant. His wings burned and twisted and almost broke as he fought his way through the fires of Hell for Dean Winchester.

Then he was called, summoned by the very man he saved. As he stood there in front of his most important task the entirety of the world fell away with three simple words. Words he had heard countless times before, and would hear countless times again.

“Who are you?”

And his Grace sang, it lit up and spun inside him but he kept a lid on it, gave his answer, went about his business. He may have found his soulmate but he still had a job to do.

He had not anticipated that the bond would be strong enough to make him rebel. But then, feelings, he had learned, were not predictable.

* * *

Gabriel had always known his words, and he had wondered at them. The question was an odd one, and even with his large and lively imagination he could not fathom why someone would ask it of him. “So, how long’ve you been working here?”.

Odd, odd, odd and once again  _odd._  He couldn’t understand it and it was driving him nuts. First of all, he knew no one who spoke like that, secondly he was an  _archangel_  who would even  _need_ to ask that!?

He had a suspicion, of course he did, and a dreadful suspicion at that. His soulmate might be human. The very idea made his entire being shudder. Him. The Archangel Gabriel. True, he was the joker of the lot but a  _human_? He was the Archangel who eradicated the Nephilim. He could not, he simply  _could not_ have a human mate.

Then, of course, he left Heaven and something clicked. His soulmate wouldn’t know him as  _Gabriel_  when they meet.

After a while as Loki the thought of having a Nephilim child grew less and less alarming. Perhaps his brothers would chastise him, maybe his Father might even put in an appearance but after Sleipnir that really didn't seem to be that big of a deal.

And of course, his soulmate had to end up being Sam bloody Winchester, didn’t he? And Gabriel was the Trickster at the time so things didn’t exactly work out stellar for them.

Even afterwards when he was reintroduced as Gabriel things didn’t go well. He supposed it might have something to do with killing Dean over and over and over again. It kind of hurt, seeing the giant -well, maybe not giant, Sam wasn't quite on par with Angerboda in size-, and seeing the damage he himself had done. His intentions might have been pure, but his means were far too harsh.

Why exactly he ran he didn’t know, and why exactly he hid after that he didn’t know either. He watched over the Winchesters, sometimes saving them. A stray bullet hitting it's target here, a hex bag removed before it could do any damage there. Sometimes something as simple as a misplaced razor showing up, or the keys to Baby.


End file.
